


A Few Minutes Longer | Tooru Oikawa x Reader

by tsurakofuku



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lemon, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Multiple Sex Positions, One Shot, PWP, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakofuku/pseuds/tsurakofuku
Summary: Request! ☆ A lucky break in routine frees up Saturday morning. Minors DNI. *I DO NOT OWN TOORU OIKAWA OR HAIKYUU*
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Original Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	A Few Minutes Longer | Tooru Oikawa x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Request for a sweet sleepy morning with Oikawa. My usual reminder that he is introduced as eighteen and ages up within the series. With that, I have left the time framing of this open-ended to your own preference; if he belongs to a university club team, or it’s Argentina, your choice and preference. And as usual, I do not write condoms into my work. Enjoy!
> 
> Recommended playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0uiZr0HTpZZv4WI1ApsqMR

Late mornings are a luxury. Tooru Oikawa doesn’t usually have time to linger, and actually does his best not to wake you when he leaves for morning practice. It never works. You’re up with his alarm, and even his soft kiss against your forehead doesn’t soothe you back to sleep. The door closes quietly behind him, the apartment stays dark, but you’re still awake even when you do your best to sink back into the enveloping warmth of the sheets. It should be annoying to have the time stolen from you, but somehow you never sleep as well as at Tooru’s apartment, brief as those hours are. 

The alarm goes off early this morning as always, even on Saturday. Tooru reaches over you with one heavy arm to fumble for his phone plugged into the outlet by your side, and you burrow your face back into the pillows for that futile half-napping. The curtains in the apartment are drawn, shards of silver light cracking through the side of the windows. There’s a clacking sound as he slides his fingers across the screen, turning off the cacophony of chimes, responding to some messages, elbow knocking into your arm. Under the thick covers, his knees draw up, into the back of your own and urging you to bend your legs for him to curl into. 

Tooru does this sometimes, grabbing a few last moments of cuddling before sliding out from under the blankets. He nestles his head into the hollow of your shoulder. His breath tickles below your ear as he lets out a heavy sigh. You let your feet swim out gently in the sea of sheets, seeking his limbs to knot your own into, a silent plea, _no, no, just a little longer, stay._

“Don’t go,” you mumble, automatically as always, waiting for him to kiss your jaw and kick the covers back. “Five more minutes. Don’t go.”

But he doesn’t. The phone keeps going _click click click_ , and he sighs again. You open your eyes, watching his thick, shadowed fingers slide the phone under your pillow, and they draw out of sight as his elbow moves back. His arm snakes down, opening a pocket of cold air under the blanket, and comes around your waist as he pulls the two of you closer.

“I don’t have to,” Tooru says, sounding a little bemused as if he can’t believe it, the words vibrating through the fabric of your shirt - _his_ t-shirt, _your_ sleeping shirt- from his bare chest. “Something with the gym floors and the basketball team’s practice last night. Coach is trying to book another space for this afternoon, or something.”

“Oh, funny,” you say. A yawn follows. His hand wraps tighter around you, the blanket rising higher up your face in response. 

“So,” he says, voice rasping and breathy and hot in your ear, “that ruins lunch plans.”

“Oh,” you say again. It does. His brain is already awake, already three steps ahead, already planning and adapting and moving. You blink, rocking your hips back into his, and let your lids sink closed. “Right. That’s okay. We can do dinner.”

“Sure, of course,” Tooru agrees mildly. His fingers flutter, locking around your ribs, rolling the fabric of your shirt between his grasp. “Are you going back to sleep?”

“I’m awake,” you say, eyes closed. 

His hands aren’t stopping. They’re massaging and slowly riding your shirt up. You roll your hips back again and feel him moving forward, knees sliding, one foot pushing between your ankles and his own hips shifting, leaning forward into yours. He’s hard under you, his erection curving right below your thigh as your legs are urged higher, even through his gym shorts. 

Your eyes are open now.

Tooru’s face buries further in your neck, lips ghosting over your skin in soft, gentle kisses. His hand is cold when it reaches your stomach at last, and you shiver into him. His other hand worms under your pillow, bent and propping you up. The ministrations become more than shivers, letting your body grind into his without conscious purpose. He keeps moving, the wriggles of his fingers compressed between the side of your body and the mattress until he reaches your chest. 

“Cold hands,” you say in mild complaint, twisting your neck back to find his face. Tooru’s eyes are closed, lashes long and sweeping as they flutter. He turns his head back and forth, the wiry tangles of hair tickling the back of your ear. Somewhere outside the curtains, a car starts.

“Warm me,” Tooru says, a soft whine accompanied by a kiss clumsily placed on your earlobe as you turn your head back away from him.

His fingers trace between your breasts, kisses resuming down the column of your neck. You arch your back, a sigh escaping you as he brushes across your nipple , then up to the other, cupping you in a calloused hand. The arm under your pillow fidgets and bends, your head gently moving with it.

Tooru’s palm is rough as he rolls his hand over you, thumb sliding to the side as he pinches your nipple, then again, a little sharper. You moan again, a slight “ _oh!_ ,” and, spurred on by the sound, he keeps rubbing his hand right there as he shifts his hips, grinding against you. You’re moving right back, his clutch dancing over you awakening something else, something stirring lazy right below your belly button and giving you the boldness to reach up your own shirt, to wind your fingers between his, and urge him down. He drags his hand under your guidance, fingertips skirting over your skin and plunging below the band of your underpants.

“ _Oh,_ ” it comes again, a sigh when you let go of his hand and he keeps going. His touch just barely grazes over your skin before a pause, pushing and tugging your panties to angle his hand and slide a finger down across your folds. 

You moan again, completely wordless as he moves, up and down and curving just a little closer. It’s not quite down to your entrance and just not exactly over your clit, but it’s tantalizing, even as the fabric of your panties begins to cut across your hips with the motions of his tugging. 

“Take these off,” Tohru says after a moment, his voice grating and thick with sleepy desire. 

It pulls you away from him, swimming in the blankets as your fingers crash into his own withdrawing, legs bending away and just off the edge of the bed. He shifts behind you, rolling his own pants down. You shimmy them down, the blanket deliciously smooth over the newly bare areas of skin. Tooru’s hand, hasty, greedy, clamps down on your thigh. He takes hold right above the back of your knee and hooks it over his forearm. 

He’s grunting softly, more and more, interrupted with kisses pressed right into the skin of your shoulder. His hips move, grinding into you faster and faster, the bed softly creaking at the posts by your head as his cock slides under the curve of your ass. The hand under your elbow twitches, as if it can’t commit to the next action. 

“Help me,” the gentle whine comes again, a sound that from anyone else would be irritating, but something Tooru makes inviting, downright bewitching. “Baby, I wanna _fuck you_.”

With your legs angled so, forced to the side by his feet stroking lightly against your angles and his hand holding your thigh up, he should have better access, but you slip your hand back, fumbling against the crook of his elbow, his ribs, down to the hard warmth of his cock. His words rumble through you as he adjusts the slung position of your knee over his arm, sliding out to hold the back of your leg. Your inner thighs tighten in response, your head craning back through the plush resistance of the pillow, finding his head nestled against yours. 

Tooru’s lips are soft and persistent when they meet you, even if you refuse to open your mouth, the thickness of morning breath cloying exigently at the back of your tongue. But his kisses glide, coaxing your lips into a smile, as he kisses slowly, unceasingly. “Come on,” he whispers, leaning his head just out of your sight as your wrap your fingers more firmly around his cock. 

But you pause a while, stroking up, then back down, leaning away from his as precum gathers at your fingertips. Tooru repeats, “come on, come on,” his hand stroking up and down your thigh, trying to pull you back to him. He’s hard under your hand, but you keep teasing him a little longer, before adjusting your position and guiding him to your entrance.

You really don’t feel just how wet and ready you are until Tooru pushes his cock in, something that makes your whole body shudder. Rolling your hips back brings you back to him, his chest warm and heaving against your shoulders. He hunches into you with every push. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” you let out in a breath, letting moans follow, and Tooru’s hand tightens right under your knee. Your thigh muscles tremble and strain, even pushed and cramped into the bed by his strength. Tooru fucks you so easily, his thrusts so smooth you can only barely feel the way he slides against you with each thrust, each stroke making you rush hot and wet – but oh, right there, when he pushes _in_ right there, the gravity of lying on your side pulls the pleasure right down and you say again – 

“ _Tooru, fuck!_ ”

He groans in response, your name and wordless noise falling from him.

His hips roll into yours again and again as you angle your head back, searching for him once more. This time when he kisses you, it’s heavy and open without restraint, his mouth pushing yours open and tongue hot suddenly on yours. Your hips grind back in response, his cock sliding in and out with every sideways thrust. Tooru moans into your mouth, a whimper coming from you in response.

“You’re so _wet_ ” he breathes, pulling your knee higher against your body, pushing your other leg and shoulder further into the bed. “How’s it feel? Right there, right when I rub against you, just like this?”

“It’s… it’s good,” you say, panting into his mouth. Your eyes flutter up to his face cut against the shadows and light streaming through the cracks of the curtain. Tooru groans, his face totally slack and relaxed, as you continue, “it’s so good, _you_ feel so good.”

He groans again, basking in the praise, and you angle your free elbow back, searching for his hair and twining your fingers in the tousled brown strands. It’s slightly damp to the touch as you anchor your hand in his hair, his scalp hot and sweaty with sleep and with sex.

Your body is so firmly, so perfectly coiled against his, even when you turn your head back to the other side, turning your wrist with it to keep that hold against his hair. Tooru’s arm under your head slides with each thrust he makes, curling you closer to him. He fucks you into the bed, your limbs slipping under his muscles even as the pressure against your shoulder begins to grow stiff. Hooking your leg up even higher pushes him even deeper into you, and you just moan his name again and again.

A few strokes later, the steady movements begin to falter. His pace stutters, and with one more thrust, he pushes in and pauses with an incoherent grunt and kiss to the spot right behind your ear. Tooru’s muscles tense, fingers flexing against the sensitive skin behind your knee. “Baby,” he groans, voice guttural when he gathers his words. “Can you – get on top?”

“Mmm.” Your response comes more a moan than an answer, but he kisses your shoulder and lets go, pulling out. It’s when you feel how tight his grasp on your leg has been, a pinching pain shooting through you as you straighten out. You push your shoulders into the mattress and roll over to straddle him, shaking your arms out and feeling the prickle of blood rushing back.

The light from the curtains falls across Tooru’s face, and he gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes. His eyelashes are translucent in the sliver of sun, one eye right in the path of the light gleaming a thousand shades of bronze. He reaches down under the hem of your t-shirt, fingers barely grazing over your already swollen folds. Your fingers crash into his, reaching for the hem to pull it off, just as he props himself up on one elbow to run his fingers along your slit. You’re slick, and you let out an involuntary moan when he gathers it on his fingers and moves up to your clit, gently circling. It’s sensitive and sore, and the added wetness Tooru rubs into you makes you moan and shudder, shoulders hunching into each other in a shiver both from his motions and the cold air stinging your newly bare skin. 

Tooru lifts his hand, slides back down, and you adjust your knees as you raise yourself over him. You take a ginger hold on his cock again, hotter than before, and position yourself to sink down with already shaking thighs.

“ _Oh_ ” he lets out in a loud groan, as you begin moving. You’re fucking him now, your hips moving down on his and your feet flexing against the mattress with every motion as he reaches so deep, impossibly deep within you. The hot tingle behind your stomach that Tooru was hitting with his strokes lying on your side spreads more evenly, stronger somehow, right to your center and through your body. It builds, gradually, with each swing and grind of your hips, the rush he calls through you roaring through your veins and making you tremble over his cock.

“ _Fuck._ ”

The heat of the sheets against the back of your feet, formerly such inviting warmth, becomes unbearable as you keep grinding yourself over him. The entanglement of limbs into the blankets is suffocating, too hot, sweat prickling at the bottom of your feet and along your knees. Tooru’s groans come louder and louder, hands hard on your thighs, palms so calloused that this rough skin prickles against yours as he pulls your body closer to him with every drop down.

And then – 

You let out a strangled yelp of surprise when the muffled sound of his ringtone comes chiming behind the pillow.

Tooru’s hand tightens on your thigh, with the other under the pillow, fumbling, the sound coming sharper when he yanks his phone from the charger. Your thighs shake, sliding down to a hesitant stop, his cock hot and throbbing inside you.

“Shit,” Tooru says lowly with his eyes on the screen and flexes his hand on your thigh. His gaze flickers up to you, a slight wincing across his brows as he raises it to his ear. “Hello?”

The screen goes black against his head before you can read the name. The caller’s voice is unclear, but from the slack, neutral expression that settles across Tooru’s face when they speak, it must be a fellow teammate. 

“Yeah. I guess it’s cancelled, I dunno.”

Your breath catches, and you swallow, aware of how loud you’re panting as the tinny voice floats through the room. Lifting a knee, you start to push yourself up, to slide off him, but the hand on your thigh tightens. You look at Tooru, who looks levelly back at you, face unchanging. He massages his grasp on your leg, listening to the speaker.

“It’s not really up to us, though,” Tooru says, and pushes himself up on his elbows. He listens, moving slowly one arm at a time as he changes the phone from hand to hand. He lets go of your thigh to wrap his arm around your waist, almost pulling you down instead of sitting himself up. You gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth at the sharpness of your own noise, as his face comes right up to yours, and his cock shifts inside you, an angle that has you clenching erratically, uncontrollably around him. 

“No,” you whisper softly, almost merely mouthing the word, but Tooru breaks into a grin, narrowing his eyes at you before rolling his hips, feet pushing under the blankets as his legs brace against you, and you shift with his movement over his thighs. He’s thrusting now, a slight gasp slipping from him as he adjusts himself over your shoulder, elbow of the hand holding the phone crashing into your own as he pushes himself into you. You can’t see his face anymore, the hand at your back pulling you close to his chest, the reverberations of his voice vibrating when he speaks. 

The voice on the other end is familiar as it continues, but no one you can gather the energy to identify right now. It keeps going, clearer as his head moves against yours, Tooru giving a quiet kiss to the side of your cheek, asking him about volleyball, about practicing, _whatever_ – as you bite your fingers and shake into him. 

“I guess. But I’m working out now.”

His words are tight and short, controlled as he picks up his pace, and you push your lips together to keep from crying out. You’re hot and melting over him, and you drop your hands from your silencing gag to clutch onto him. He’s leaning into you harder and harder with each rock of his hips forward.

“Okay, later.”

The phone catches the broken light as Tooru drops it. “Working…out?” you pant, closing your eyes and blinking at the brilliant rainbow the screen’s reflection throws on the wall behind him. 

His hands lock directly around your back, and this thrust pulls you closer to him, a sweaty embrace and kiss to the side of your neck when he shifts against the sheets.

“Isn’t your heart racing?” Tooru breathes, rolling his hips to wrap his legs against you. 

He pushes persistently up. The thrusts are fast and hard, grinding the two of you against each other, bodies into the bed. It’s changed, nothing languid and lazy like the way the morning started. The way he fucks you now is rabid and aggressive, an energetic passion that makes your head beat in time with your pulsing, building orgasm. It forces moans from you, animalistic and louder than they should be within the thin walls of the apartment. 

“ _Oh_ ,” you say in a choking sob, burying your face in his shoulder. “Fuck, fuck.” 

You bite his shoulder, the salty sweat running between your teeth, and another, muffled moan comes from you. 

“Oh, I love - those pretty - noises you make,” Tooru says, his voice strained and broken between breaths with the frantic thrusts of his hips. Your arms shake, knotted around his body holding yourself up. You’re meeting his thrusts, rolling his hips into his and squeezing your thighs. The building pleasure begins to rocket without warning, your heart racing and breath coming faster out of your mouth and hot against his skin, and you cry out – 

“ _Tooru, I’m – coming!_ ”

It washes over you, something you couldn’t hold back or stop even if he demanded it of you. Your muscles twitch, clenching over him as he keeps sliding in and out of you, fucking you through the orgasm. Tooru moves faster, fingers holding you up and pushing in the ridges of your spine. You’re just barely riding out the last waves of it, your inner walls still fluttering and clenching, when he comes hot in you, something that makes you arch your back and moan again as he shoots through you. 

When you let go and untangle yourself, you’re boneless, trying your best not to simply fall into the bed like a limp lifeless doll. Your muscles feel relaxed and cramped at the same time, your breath a long way from returning to normal. And hunger, that’s the next persistent sense. Breakfast.

The necessities of life roll into your brain unbidden after that. Eating. Showering. Brushing teeth. 

Tooru slumps onto his stomach, exhaling as he kicks out and reaches for his phone. “I actually should text him back,” he muses. “Practice wouldn’t hurt.”

Even this morning, the routine continues. There’s a businesslike, focused aspect to him and his priorities. It’s truly admirable. You stare at the ceiling, the light taking on a cooler tone as it splashes across the corner of the ceiling, Tooru’s phone clicking away besides you. 

“I’ll air out the place,” you say, eyes still locked on the ceiling. 

“Appreciate that. Can I shower first?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Tooru leans over you and kisses you on the forehead as he climbs off the bed, same as every morning. You push yourself up and grab his wrists, splaying your fingers over him, stroking your thumb along the side of his and tilting your chin up for him.

 _Don’t go,_ is what you want, to whine, to grab and grab and pull him back into the sheets, locking your arms and legs around him, to convince him to indulge. _Get back in bed. Five more minutes. Don’t go._ But your selfishness, your whining is not as sweet as his.

“One more,” you say instead, and Tooru smiles as he leans in, kissing your lips softly in the crackling light of the apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Again, as I wanted to leave it up to the reader to set the actual time and scene, it’s up to you who called him – a teammate, an old friend, a friendly competitor… I truly just couldn’t decide. Let me know what you think! :) ~ Tsura * SEE MY CARRD IN MY PROFILE FOR INFORMATION ABOUT MAKING REQUESTS *


End file.
